


Velveteen

by larvae



Category: Mad Max: Fury Road
Genre: Cannibalism, Corpse Desecration, Necrophilia, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-21
Updated: 2015-07-21
Packaged: 2018-04-10 10:14:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4387913
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/larvae/pseuds/larvae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Continuation of a kink meme fill that asked for The People Eater doing something truly disgusting.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Velveteen

**Author's Note:**

> A direct continuation of [this kink meme fill](http://madmaxkink.dreamwidth.org/1321.html?thread=673833) starting immediately after the fade to black, completed for a friend who wanted the nitty gritty. I did not author the original prompt nor did I fill it, so credit for the idea and its initial execution does not belong to me.
> 
> This is just generally very putrid please proceed with caution and read the original fill first!

He worked his spit-slicked hand up and down his cock as he suckled from her. Mother’s milk straight from the teat still fresh and nearly warm, though the mother had expired. He laughed and it made him choke milk back onto her breast which he lapped at with wheezing effort.

The People Eater strained to adjust his weight in the front seat and maneuver his bounty in a way that wouldn’t force his hand to abandon his cock. He had, what, two? six? hours until daybreak? How many before Kalashnikov rode back to camp guns blazing with three girls in each hand, dragging by their hair?

_No…._  he reminded himself,  _no, in one hand he’d have two_. The sixth lay open beside him in her decadent, glistening way, putting that generous hole in her belly on display for him.

She squelched as he manhandled her and he felt a thumb slip into the corner of the gapping smile that had been left by the Organic’s hand. She was so soft and her wound was so generous, like a velveteen rabbit greedily sucking at his thumb. He could almost hear it cooing at him through those deliciously wet sounds it made. The gash said his name, sighed it lustily in its cold, sucking voice. It took his thumb to the last knuckle and begged for more of him, closing around the digit so completely, like his hand was being swallowed, being eaten by the bride that would become his meal; like a teasing kind of fellatio that led strait to this ex breeders open, vacant egg sack.

The vacancy left in her was his for the taking, and for a moment The People Eater saw himself crawling into her womb completely and leaving this world behind. Curling up in the cold wet dark that had been left in this beautiful girl and sewing her back up. Leaving himself to breathe her stagnant air and feed on the nutrients her clotting blood had left in it. He wondered if he could be birthed anew, pulled from her rigid, decaying cunt in a few months time once the game had run its course. Perhaps he would have inherited some of her youth and his leg would trouble him less after a proper gestational period in her fecund, fetid hole. This hole that was sucking at him like a common whore, begging for him deeper in it, wet and greedy and squelching outs its slutty little  _please_ s.

He fumbled onto his hip, awkwardly bridging the gap between their bodies by rolling onto his side and pulling her closer to him. All around him there was dead weight and unfeeling flesh, but the leg, at least, he could ignore. He tucked his already leaking cock into her newly made fold and went back to his fantasy as he fucked her.

She was weightier in death and his thrusts had her head lolling onto her shoulder to slam against the passenger side window, making a sad rhythmic thump as skin broke and blood pooled into her honey colored hair. Already thickened by the handful of hours that had passed, sluggish like the rest of her, suspended in the early stages of decomposition.

Perhaps he wouldn’t wait to be extracted, who knows if the forceps would ever come to claim him? Perhaps he could settle into the cool quiet dark and feast on the sweet meats that surrounded him. If mother and child were left in the sun the meat of her would be cooked by the time he reached it, burrowing out from the cool bloody center. His last bites would be the crisp luxury of her perfect skin, buttered by her own fats, slick with her own embalming fluids. He’d suck the marrow from her bones still cold, he’d eat her heart and taste the bitter life she’d lead.

Joe had thought ‘till near the end that she’d loved him, but The People Eater would know the truth of it, would carry it around in his bowels for a few days. The gamey organ that had held all her vices and virtues would be pulled between his rotting teeth in great, uneven sheets and he could shit out all the secrets the Immortan had never been privy to. Perhaps she’d named the child, taken a lover, pitied the old man. Perhaps her sorry life had made her heart bloated and distended with the rich indulgent brine of her hatred.

With a choking sigh and a final crack of Angharad’s splendid skull against his window, The People Eater came, his seed leaking back out from the slit he’d been buried in to stain his stomach. He grunted and threw her off of him, watching those long slender limbs tangle and drag her bulk onto the floor.

Hazily, he thought of fucking her proper, wondered if his cock could reach from the hole God had given her to the one he’d just consummated. Perhaps he’d tuck the head of his member into the womb that had been scraped clean for his pleasures and sow something too terrible to reap.

It didn’t matter, he had time …


End file.
